Chapter 18

In early March, Gilbert's parents came for their promised visit. Anne asked their landlady to recommend a boardinghouse for the older couple, only to have her insist that she could accommodate the pair easily. Gilbert picked them up from the station on Friday afternoon, and Anne was there to greet them with a shy look on her face as she ushered them into their son's home. Amelia burst into tears as soon as she crossed the threshold of the cottage, pulling them both into a tight hug. There were several moments of incoherent babble- my darlings, oh, that ceiling! Are you getting enough sleep, oh, I do love seeing you with a cat! and Shouldn't you have a sweater on, dear?- before Anne and Gilbert convinced them to sit down. John had a grin on his face the entire time, in wonder at finally being in Kingsport, and in his grown son's home.

It had not taken long to show the older couple around the small house, and with some trepidation Anne had shown them the bedroom, only to find them reassuringly matter-of-fact about it. One of Rachel's quilts was displayed on the wall, carefully tacked up to bring some colour and lightness to the brown room. Others were placed on the neatly made beds, and a small vase of snowdrops sat on the chest of drawers, making the room smell sweet.

Amelia was found in the laundry with Anne on Saturday morning, scrubbing and talking with Mrs Whitley about the challenge of washing in the winter. She hustled Anne from the kitchen as soon as they returned, saying that Anne wasn't to worry a mite about the baking- and Anne found herself at her desk with a fresh cup of tea and a plate of cookies to work with. Rusty, to Anne's surprise, took at once to Gilbert's parents- although he still walked past Gilbert with evident disdain.

Gilbert's father pronounced the Mushroom to be in satisfactory condition, however, he was adamant that the chimney must not have been cleaned properly in years- and so he spent Saturday afternoon on the roof cleaning and repairing it. Whatever Mrs Whitley might have thought about this, within a short time she was being served tea in the cottage and thanked profusely for her goodness to the children. Mrs Whitley thawed remarkably with this attention, and privately, Anne hid a little smile- she had a feeling that the Blythe charm worked on everyone.

Gilbert came from the bedroom with his books under one arm, pulling the table over to where Anne's desk sat.

"I'm sorry, they've somewhat taken over everything," Gilbert asked awkwardly.

She chuckled, then. "You forget that we spent a lot of time in your kitchen while we were teaching- I know how your parents work." Anne watched Mrs Blythe take the tea towel from some bread she had been proving in the kitchen, and smiled. "It's her way of loving you."

"Us." Anne looked up from her page, curiously. Gilbert reached across the two desks to grasp her hand. "It's their way of loving us. My mother always wanted a daughter."

Anne shifted uncomfortably. "I'm not hers, Gil."

"She sees you like that," he said firmly. "You'll see. You should have heard her lecture me about how I needed to treat you after we told them everything."

Anne blanched at that. "Me? You treated me very well."

He leant back, grinning. "She'll be thrilled to know that. To be fair, there was a substantial lecture in there about the impropriety of taking off my shirt in front of you. Of course, by that point we'd already married for two weeks- so it was a bit of a moot point."

Anne shrugged, not looking up from her work. "And I had seen it before- although you certainly didn't look like that back then." Gilbert looked up in shock to see Anne's face pale, and she began to stumble over her words in embarrassment. "I mean with your football training, I suppose- no, I- I mean that you were smaller then- not in a bad way, but your arms weren't as big- you just- Gilbert, stop laughing!"

As she got up to leave in embarrassment, he grabbed her hands, a big smile on his face. "Anne," he said softly. "We grew up together. You think I didn't notice you as well?" Anne's jaw dropped as her face flushed. Gilbert bent down to look her in the eye. "I'm sorry if I embarrassed you. I was just surprised. And I'm hoping that you don't mean that I look worse."

Anne folded her arms, her eyebrows flying up in gentle mockery. "Now, that sounds like someone fishing for a compliment. Does your ego need stroking?"

Gilbert hesitated, a wry smile on his face. "I think you'll find that you've been the antidote to my ego since I was fourteen years old."

"It was you who started our relationship by tormenting me about my looks." Anne saw his face fall, and she swallowed hard. She leant forward, her hand on his arm in apology. "I'm sorry- I shouldn't tease. That was a long time ago."

Gilbert sat back again with a sigh, pulling his books toward him. He picked up his pencil and adjusted his page, his eyes studiously down. "Anne, I think you are the most beautiful woman I've ever known. I've thought that for years. And I was an idiot to tease you back then."

Anne settled as well, her cheeks still pink. "I told Di that I thought you were handsome that day."

Gilbert looked up in shock. "Really?"

"Yes. Oh, not after you called me Carrots," she said dryly. "By then I was too angry to see you clearly." She was silent for a moment before she cleared her throat. "I like the way you look."

Gilbert's smile grew. "Thank you. So bigger isn't a bad thing, then?"

To his delight, her cheeks were glowing, and she refused to look up from her page. He had to lean in to hear her mumbled words. "I- like your arms."

It was clear to Gilbert that she felt the conversation was done at this juncture, and he attempted to turn his focus on his own work, a wide grin on his face. He didn't know how she did it- but Anne seemed to find a new way to surprise him every day.

On Sunday the Blythes attended church with Anne and Gilbert, followed by dinner at Patty's Place. The girls took great delight in meeting Gilbert's parents and laughed until they cried at stories of Gilbert as a child. When the meal was done, Aunt Jimsie shooed the young people off to play a game- no doubt enjoying the opportunity to have a conversation with her peers. Jo and Gilbert were arguing theology in the armchairs by the fire, and Anne shook her head with a smile when asked to join in the board game. Instead, she wandered outside to the dearly missed orchard, needing some time to think.

The visit had been wonderful- although it had been a little overwhelming, in some respects.

The previous afternoon Mrs Blythe had insisted instead that Anne take a long, hot bath to relax while she prepared supper, and Gilbert took his father for a walk through Old St Johns. Amelia sat with her before the fire while Anne brushed her hair out afterwards, catching her up-to-date on the news from Avonlea and introducing her to all manner of Blythe and Fletcher relatives that Anne would one day meet.

While Gilbert had escorted his parents back to the boardinghouse later, she had pulled a sheaf of notes from her basket and eventually moved to the sofa in front of the fire. She sank into the cushions, her eyes troubled.

It had started as an idea- she would attempt to write what she had never spoken about. She would show it to no one. In doing so, she would most likely purge herself of unwanted memories- one day she might feel quite kindly to the Hopetoun Asylum. After all, hadn't resiliency and imagination saved her there? Perhaps she had learned to overcome in that place- perhaps it had made her work harder for her future. And yet, as Anne sat in the chair with her attempts at writing the ineffable, the time spent with Gilbert's family pierced a shard through her heart. Never had the memories seemed so bleak, never had they seemed as hurtful as when placed beside the warmth of Gilbert's parents, the stories of his seemingly cloudless childhood. She knew better, of course- the tiny, stillborn brother and sister that Gilbert had never known, the long exile without wife and mother in Alberta while doctors battled for John Blythe's life. They had almost lost the farm twice: once, while Anne and Gilbert were still in school together.

In vain she tried to tell herself that it didn't matter. He and his family were safe now. She was fine as well- she knew that her parents had loved her. Two families that had not been her own had kept her alive. She had lived through the asylum, and when she was eleven she found her way to Marilla and Matthew, who had made up for everything she had lacked. She didn't dwell on her past- there was no need. She was loved, and her future was with her best friend.

Anne lifted her feet onto the sofa, wrapping her arms around her knees as if cold. The papers crinkled between the layers of her skirt, and she shivered slightly. She had barely had time to write between assignments and classwork- and yet the pages she had done sat in her subconscious like a bruise under the skin. Gilbert had been as good as his word- he hadn't asked, hadn't pried- and yet there was something confused inside that wanted to offer it to him. It was easy to brush this impulse aside, of course, it wasn't finished- and he would know as soon as he read it that it was her.

He would know.

When Gilbert came back into the house that night, he found Anne sitting before the fire, several pages crumpled in her hand. He frowned slightly. Had she been quieter than usual that night? He moved to put the kettle on the stove and came to sit beside her.

"What are you thinking about?" he asked quietly.

Anne seemed to come back from somewhere and tried to smile. "May I ask you something?"

"Am I going to say no?"

She chuckled, however, the distant look in her eyes was swift to return. "Do you ever think about your time in Alberta?"

Gilbert stilled, turning his body to face her. "Not often. Why?"

She shrugged, her lashes down. "I suppose I just wondered if you did."

There was a pause, and he studied her carefully. "If it comes to mind. To be honest, I'd rather not remember it."

There was a shadowed look on Anne's face then. "Really?"

Gilbert could feel the conversation rapidly shifting, and frowned, trying to understand why she was talking about this. "Anne, Dad's fine. He told me that he's had more energy over the last few years- he's even prepared the lower field for planting this year. You'll remember; we used to lie in the tall grass, pretending we were invisible to the outside world."

She smiled. "I remember."

Gilbert nodded, his voice soft. "He's fine, Anne. They're all fine."

She only nodded. Gilbert pulled her into his arms then, holding her tightly for a while. "Sweetheart? Do you need to talk?"

He felt her shake her head against him, and yet she put her arms around his waist, cuddling into his side. So they stayed for long minutes, hearing only the crackling of the fire, and the quiet breaths of the other. If Gilbert felt the hot tears seeping into his shirt he did not acknowledge them. In this rare moment of vulnerability, he could only pray that holding her would be enough.

After a busy weekend, Anne and Gilbert saw the Blythes off at the train station early on Monday morning. Amelia clucked over the pair anxiously, and Anne couldn't help but laugh at the way she fussed over a fully-grown Gilbert. She herself was exhorted to take good care of herself before John gave her a hasty hug and turned to pull his wife from Gilbert's side.

"Come on, love, before the train leaves without us," he said easily and grinned at the pair. "Look after each other now; we'll see you in just a few months. Let me know how that chimney goes, Gil."

The goodbyes were said, tearfully from Gilbert's mother, and soon the train was moving, leaving Anne and Gilbert on the platform together, each drawing in a deep breath.

"So that's what happens when my parents come to Kingsport!" Gilbert said comically. "Do you think they sat down at all?"

Anne smiled, turning them toward the exit. "I think they have more energy than we do, Gil. Speaking of which, we'd better head home to have our breakfast- we need to be at college in two hours."

As they walked out into the early sunshine and through the park toward their home, Gilbert turned to her. "Do you suppose that we'll be like them one day?" he asked suddenly. "Descending on our children, taking over the cooking and fixing things?"

Anne's auburn eyebrows flew up, her eyes sparkling. "We'll have to wait and see, I suppose. I can cook, of course- we'll just have to see if the scholar still remembers how to use his hammer."

Luckily, the park was empty- had anyone been present, they would have seen Gilbert chasing his red-headed wife through the trees, catching her in his arms in a swirl of skirts, and pausing to steal a soft kiss from her laughing mouth.

Anne's birthday came on a Saturday that tried hard to be springlike- so much so, that Gilbert found a small patch of crocuses behind the cottage. He placed a flower in a glass to put on their breakfast table, having gotten up early to cook the pancakes unaided. Anne was quick to praise him for his work, choosing to not comment on the stack that was slightly burnt on his own plate.

Gilbert sat down across from her, with a satisfied look on his face. He slid a small package across to her.

"Happy birthday, Anne-girl."

Anne pushed a red curl off her forehead as she reached for the present shyly. In the box was a fine gold chain, with a pink enamel heart as a pendant. To his pleasure, she began to laugh immediately. "Gilbert, where on earth did you find this?"

He grinned at her. "A few months ago, in a jewellery shop downtown. I rather liked the reminder of our humble beginnings."

Anne smiled at the memory of the candy heart she had once crushed beneath her heel. She narrowed her eyes at him teasingly. "Only you would remind your wife on her birthday that you once called her Carrots."

"I call you Carrots all the time," Gilbert said breezily, and then gave her a loving smile. "I know that you don't usually wear pink, but I hope you won't mind this one."

Anne stood up and walked around the table, handing him the necklace. "Would you put it on for me?"

He stood up, flushing as he fought to do up the small clasp, the rosy smell of her red curls intoxicating. When it was done, he stood still as she turned, giving him a shy look, and a quick kiss on the cheek. "Thank you. I love it, Gil."

For this day, Gilbert had decreed that no textbooks should be opened, and instead they spent the forenoon walking through the markets in the centre of the city. Gilbert kept a firm hold of his wife's hand as they wound their way through the crowds and food stalls set up around the streets, browsing through curios and fabrics, and adding a few books to their growing collection.

In the afternoon Gilbert took Anne out on a leisurely picnic at the Arm, finding more early flowers there much to Anne's delight. They lay in the sunshine drawing pictures in the clouds together, indulging in the odd squabble, and enjoying the outside world again. The trees were beginning to come into leaf again, and Gilbert spotted cherry trees by the shore ready to blossom. Anne declared it to be one of the nicest days they had spent in Kingsport, with a walk home via Spofford Avenue to collect the girls for the evening.

Phil and the girls brought a cake that they had made together, proudly iced by Phil herself. Aunt Jimsie sent her love, now laid up with a sore ankle, and the girls settled in for a pleasant evening around the fireplace. Jonas was to come after some parish duties had been discharged, and in the meantime, Anne was curious to sense an odd tension in the room that did not break until Gilbert had left the room to fetch more kindling.

"Quick, honey, while he's gone!"

Anne blinked in shock at the present thrown into her lap that seemed to come from nowhere. "I need to open this now?"

"Unless you want to open it in front of Gilbert, yes!" Stella hissed.

With shaking hands Anne undid the pink ribbon and drew out a nightgown that made her gasp. The fabric was some of the finest muslin she had ever seen, a soft white that was embroidered and pin-tucked with delicate lace on the low, rounded neckline.

It was also completely transparent.

Phil's hands rose in placation at Anne's huge grey eyes. "I know, honey, it's not for right now, but we just thought that a little forethought wouldn't hurt- and as Jo might say, neither of you will know exactly the hour that the- er- bridegroom may visit…"

Here, Anne choked in mortification, making Priscilla clutch her side in a fit of laughter. "Phil, must you be so literal in your scripture interpretation?" she gasped, while Anne tried to swallow.

"You mean this to be for this for our- our-"

"Wedding night, sweetie," Phil stated, her brown eyes twinkling. "I've seen all of your nightgowns, and I thought it was time for something a little frivolous for the first one of us to be married. And you have to admit that it's quite the prettiest thing you've ever seen- it's sure to be the best thing he's ever seen, too."

For a moment Anne froze, her mind awhirl with pictures she would have sworn she had never imagined before. Her pale face flushed as she pulled herself back to reality, suddenly aware that the girls were watching her with identical smug looks on their faces. "It is lovely," she managed with a little chuckle, holding the white gown before her reverently. "Although it certainly-"

At this juncture, the four girls jumped as they heard a loud laugh just outside the door, and it opened as Gilbert entered with an armful of wood trailed by Jo, whose green eyes brightened at once at the sight of Phil. Gilbert immediately registered the silence of the room and turned to the girls slowly. "Er- is everything alright?"

"Fine," Phil said innocently, darting a sheepish look at Jo. "Stella?"

Stella's look was cherubic. "Oh, I'm fine." A small gurgle came from Priscilla, and she wiped a tear of laughter from her blue eyes. "Prissy's fine, too. Anne?"

Anne felt all eyes turn to her and cursed herself for not being better at pretending that everything was normal. She hid the nightgown behind her, and tried to smile at her distinctively suspicious husband. "It's just a present," she said feebly. "One- one that you can't see."

Gilbert's eyebrows rose, and he met the eyes of his guilty-looking wife. She shook her head behind the girls pleadingly, and he suppressed a little smile. "Alright, then. Well, Jo has arrived, ladies- is it time for that cake yet?"

Anne reflected later that the evening was delightful. Moody and Charlie both stopped in later after a committee meeting, and the Mushroom was filled with plentiful laughter and good conversation. Charlie, even, was almost human as he reddened at Gilbert's teasing- he'd been seen having tea with a certain young lady by the name of Constance- and by the look on his face had thoroughly enjoyed it.

Later that night, while Gilbert put the house back into order again Anne stood in their bedroom dressed for bed with the new nightgown before her. She sighed, her finger tracing the pretty ruffles on the sleeves. Her cheeks were a brilliant red as she wrapped it carefully in tissue paper, placing it carefully under her undergarments in the drawer. As she climbed into bed, she pulled her knees up to her chest, the covers wrapped around her tightly. Knowing that Gilbert would bring the lamp into the room, she blew out her own, and sat in the darkness thinking.

Diana had a range of nightwear carefully sewn already- she and Anne had had a giggle over it last summer, the fine muslin that would display every curve in the slightest light. Of course, Mrs Barry had sniffed at the light fabric Aunt Josephine had bought for her daughter; however, she had provided patterns and conceded that they were very nicely done- although she did tell her that it wasn't a good idea to make the lingerie so early. Diana had asked her mother why with a convincingly innocent look- and laughed herself silly after her mother stalked out of the room without being able to give her a good answer.

Anne worried her lip in the darkness. She had, of course, had no reason for such sewing- as far as a trousseau was concerned, she had gone into their marriage with only her everyday clothes. Was Gilbert sorry about that? She rolled her eyes at herself then. Was she really asking herself what he thought of her clothing again? When had that happened?

They had been married for four months now. Anne had thought it through carefully- she couldn't say that she was in love- but somehow everything had revolved to where Gilbert's opinion had become the one that mattered the most. That was marriage, she supposed. The thought of the gossamer-fine nightgown made heat flood her body. She didn't want to think about that yet- what he would think of her. It was strange, though- five months ago she could not have conceived of ever opening herself up to Gilbert in that manner- and yet the thought of one day no longer exactly terrified her. Not that she was ready for that, she thought in some confusion- not now, not yet. And yet perhaps Jo was correct in saying that love could be chosen. She couldn't have suspected that there was more to the man she had married than the friend he had been to her so many months ago- more to the Gilbert she had known in their schooldays, in AVIS days, even in their early years of college. And yet there was. Was he finding that out about her as well?

She pulled her red hair over her shoulder, carefully braiding it into one plait and smiling as she overheard Gilbert talking to Rusty in the kitchen. The two of them would like each other one day, perhaps.

Anne suddenly frowned, leaning over the side of her bed to pull her old journal from the pile of books there. She didn't write in it much, anymore- she was not yet aware that she tended to think out loud to Gilbert instead. And any thoughts that needed to be kept private from Gilbert were- well, usually about Gilbert himself. Now, however, she turned to the beginning of the book, pulling out a pink piece of paper bearing the stamp of Rollings Reliable on it. Anne made a face, remembering the shame and humiliation she had felt back then. She had always planned to spend it usefully on clothes- and expected to hate them bitterly when she put them on.

However, so much had changed- and it was Gilbert who insisted that she shouldn't be ashamed of it. And he was right- some had teased, however, most students had merely congratulated her on her win- and one sheepish senior told her that he had once written a story to advertise Ivory Soap. Back then, Gilbert had stood by her side manfully, averring that he couldn't do better- and that she should use the money proudly.

He knocked on the door then and came into the room with a little smile. "All ready for bed?"

She nodded, and he set the lamp on the table by his own. He raised an eyebrow when she held out the piece of paper to him, and at a glance, he began to laugh. "You never cashed this, Anne?"

She gave him an apologetic look. "I'd forgotten that I had it. I- thought perhaps I might do so now. If we don't have any other immediate needs- I thought that I could use it to make some new clothing. Phil's present reminded me that I didn't make anything towards a trousseau."

Gilbert rolled his eyes. "That's because we only had one week, sweetheart. It's a great idea. And of course, you should use it- it's your money."

Anne chuckled. "Well, it will make a start. Thank you, by the way- it's been a wonderful day."

He grinned, pulling his pyjamas from his bed. "My pleasure."

Anne's mouth quirked in the sudden silence. "You want to ask me about it, don't you?"

Gilbert began to laugh sheepishly. "Am I that obvious?"

"Only to me," she admitted and bit her lip in indecision. "It's a not for now present." He turned to her curiously, and she could almost see his brain ticking. She willed her cheeks to cool and spoke to the book in her hand. "It's- just- a nightgown."

He frowned dubiously. "Then why hide it? I'm a married man. I've seen your nightgowns before."

"You haven't seen this one," she mumbled, her cheeks growing even hotter under his gaze. "It's a rather- special one- for a- a special occasion."

Gilbert had been walking to the dressing room, and he stopped cold. She felt him turn, and his voice jumped an octave. "What do you mean by special?"

She felt the weight on the bed shift as he sat down near her feet, and chuckled. "You could say that- it's for a once in a lifetime occasion."

His head snapped up in sudden comprehension, and he gulped. "You mean- then- it's- it's for that?"

She raised a teasing eyebrow at Gilbert's inarticulate manner, and decided to be straightforward- he was adorable when he was rattled. "It's for our wedding night, Gil."

His reaction didn't disappoint, and he almost slipped off the end of her bed in shock. He looked at her with a glazed expression. "Really?"

Anne chuckled, blushing furiously. "I wouldn't make this up, Gilbert."

He hesitated. "What's it like?"

She looked up to see an oddly yearning look on his face, one that made butterflies she never knew she had flutter madly. "It's beautiful." Gilbert's look was dreamy, and he nodded as he got to his feet. She cleared her throat and he almost missed her next words- "and I think you will like it."

Somehow Gilbert got himself into the dressing room and sank back against the closed door, his hand on his thumping chest. A dazed grin covered his features, and he had to stop himself from laughing out loud at the sheer joy welling up in his chest. If only he could go back in time to the fellow who had walked away from Patty's Place after the accident, so sure that he was about to lose the woman he loved- he'd grab him and waltz crazily down the street- and he would tell him that everything was going to be alright.

Two days after her birthday, Anne walked into her English class and went to sit down. There were several people watching her, something she had grown used to ignoring- however as she placed her coat on her chair, she saw something on the desk that made her freeze- a single white orchid with a small note beside it, its elegantly lettered sentiment cryptic.

A little birdie told me it was your birthday…

Anne dropped it at once, her face inscrutable. She heard a small titter from some girls in the classroom, and then Roy took his place beside her, his manner mild. Anne shot him an odd look, and when he turned to her, he nodded his smooth, dark head. "I hope you had a nice day," he murmured, and Anne turned back to the front, her mind moving furiously. The whispers grew louder, and she lifted her chin gamely, even as she saw a smirk cross Roy's handsome face. Professor Winston called the class to attention, and Anne pulled out her notebook, Gilbert's twisted smile foremost in her mind.

Perhaps it was time to try something different.

On Thursday night, Gilbert was at work at the kitchen table while Anne flitted about aimlessly through the house. Gilbert kept one eye on her as she came and went, hoping that she would eventually come clean about what was bothering her. He scratched his eyebrow with a frown, wondering if she was ready for him to ask her outright.

"Anne?"

"Hmm?"

"Is anything wrong?"

She turned to him in bewilderment, a dishcloth hanging from her hand. "What makes you say that?"

Gilbert put his pencil down, his look mild. "You just rearranged the cabinets twice. You do that when you're worrying about something."

Anne's cheeks turned pink, however, she sat down opposite him.

"I- I wondered if I might have your help with a problem."

His voice was teasing, wanting her to relax. "Anything for you, Mrs Blythe."

Anne huffed slightly, her cheeks now turning a bright red. "It's about that, actually."

Gilbert sobered, watching her shift on her chair. "Oh?"

"Do you remember Royal Gardner?"

He paused, puzzled at the question. "The fellow in your class? Ronald's friend?"

Anne's cheeks were hot, and she refused to look at him. "Yes. It's- it's rather hard to explain- and I thought I was imagining things for a time."

"Yes, I'm familiar with your work, Anne," he teased, his easy smile belying the unease in his chest.

"Roy- is rather- more attentive than I would like," Anne said carefully, and Gilbert froze. "He makes little comments, drops flowers on my desk- and- well, this was today's offering."

She handed him a piece of paper with a few hastily scratched lines, and Gilbert's fingers tightened on his pencil, his eyes beginning to burn in anger.

"Is he allowed to misquote Tennyson like that?" he asked, trying to keep his voice light. The tension eased somewhat when Anne chuckled.

"So far as I am concerned? No." She folded her arms on the table sedately, however, he could read the anxiety on her face. "He will often choose to bait me in class directly- not that that concerns me, as such. It's his other behaviour, which is only just below the level of flirtatiousness. I have made it clear that it is not welcome, and yet he appears to treat that like a challenge. It's starting to cause gossip within our year."

Gilbert flexed his fingers, longing to wrap them around a certain man's throat, but he drew in a deep breath as common sense took over. He folded his arms to study her. "Anne, I'm more than happy to jump in and break his nose without question- frankly, the sooner, the better- but you've never been one to stand back when others are imposing on you," he said carefully. "What's stopping you from doing it this time?"

Her answer was not the one he had expected. "Unfortunately, our circumstances, Gil. I'm tempted to break something over his head as I once did to you-" Gilbert cleared his throat with an attempt to hide a fond smile, suddenly seeing those young, green eyes blazing with fury. "-However, it will only make more gossip if I fly into a temper," she stated, and Gilbert's eyes widened. "The rumours have finally begun to settle down about us, and we do not need the extra attention."

Gilbert let out a disgruntled sigh. "Well, you're right about that," he commented, and settled back in his seat. His look was thoughtful then, as he regarded her. "What would you like me to do?"

Anne 's shoulders dropped in relief. "Would you mind walking with me to and from my classes? I think it would be best for him to see you- to see us in person."

A smirk began to form on Gilbert's handsome face. "You want me to stake my public claim on you."

Anne's cheeks reddened crossly. "Oh! Only you would respond to this in a thoroughly Neanderthal manner." As he apologised, laughing, she scowled. "But essentially, yes. If you were present more, he might desist without me resorting to violence."

"And what if I resort to it?" Anne shook her head as Gilbert sobered, and he couldn't hide the warmth in his eyes. "I would have been walking with you before now, Anne- but I figured that you didn't need me smothering you."

Anne rolled her eyes. "And yet it was you that said we needed to show a more united front."

"I did. Dare I ask how long this has been going on?"

Anne let out a long breath, her eyes regretful. "For a few weeks. I didn't wish to bother you if I was worrying about nothing."

Gilbert's eyebrows rose, but he only nodded. "Well, it ends now."

Anne's eyes twinkled. "Thank you. Is there anyone you need me to scare away from you?"

She couldn't interpret the gleam in his eye that showed for a brief second, however, his answer was easy. "I'll be sure to let you know." He began to pack away his materials then, much to her astonishment. "Do you want to go for a walk?" he asked suddenly.

Anne blinked. "Didn't you need to finish your work tonight?"

"After we get back. Let's just spend some time together."

Anne nodded, surprised. "I'll get my coat."

Gilbert watched her go with a loving look. In his heart was a small victory worth celebrating- she'd come to him, trusted him with this. They were in a good place. He saw with sudden clarity that he'd been on edge ever since they arrived at Redmond- always so afraid that he would lose her. Their unexpected marriage had changed everything. There was time to concentrate on their studies, on getting to know each other without the crippling fear- and it had set him free in a way he hadn't felt in years. Evidently, she felt that too. There was a smile on his face as he went to put on his coat, wondering at the weight that had fallen from his shoulders. He loved her, he desired her- but he could focus on what really mattered now. There would come a day when everything would change again- but he would wait for it with patience.

The following day, Gilbert walked through the doors of the English classroom to see Anne packing up her satchel down the front. Gilbert's gaze found Roy beside her, bending down to speak to her with a clear look of interest- and Gilbert's jaw spasmed. Soon, though, a wicked smile crossed his face. He strode down the aisle with his hands in his pockets, and after greeting Professor Winston he came to stand directly between Anne and Roy.

"Darling, I'm sorry that I'm late," he murmured, bending to kiss her cheek lingeringly. "Interesting class?"

Anne's face flushed, however her eyes twinkled at the look of shock on Roy's face. "Very."

Gilbert turned then to view the gentleman behind him coolly. His handshake was a shade firmer than necessary, but his smile was relaxed. "Gardner, good to see you. And how is Miss Stuart?"

Roy adjusted his immaculate cuffs idly. "Well, I think. Shall I send her your greetings, Mr Blythe?"

Gilbert shrugged. "Of course. Anne and I took in one of her recitals last week- she is very talented. Tell me, Roy do you find the study of English as interesting as my beloved wife does?"

The melancholy gentleman manufactured a smile, and his voice was smooth. "I do, indeed. Mrs Blythe has a keen intellect that is challenging to keep up with." He eyed Gilbert carefully. "Very progressive of you to allow your wife to continue her studies, Blythe. Not many would be so open minded."

Gilbert's lazy smile was clearly designed to unsettle the gentleman, and Anne choked back a snort of laughter at his expression. "I assure you that my wife is equally as progressive as I am- we would never dream of limiting each other for the sake of society; would we, love?"

Gilbert's sentiment was real, and for a moment Anne's eyes softened as she met his. She cleared her throat then. "We certainly wouldn't." She turned to Roy politely, stepping into Gilbert's side easily. "You must excuse us, Mr Gardner, we have an engagement this evening." Gilbert smiled and took the books from Anne, his arm slipping around her waist. Ignoring the gentlemen nearby, he turned his head as they walked so that his nose brushed her temple, and he could clearly be heard to whisper- "You look like a dryad in this dress, sweetheart. You don't know what it does to me."

Roy was still standing when Professor Winston walked past him. "Come on Gardner, out of the aisle. An exceptional pair, don't you think?"

The younger man cleared his throat politely. "Yes. Quite."

Once they were safely in the park, Anne rounded on Gilbert with narrowed eyes. "You enjoyed that far too much, Gil."

Gilbert hitched up his own satchel with a grin. "Alright, so I did. Doesn't every man wants to ride into battle for the honour of his lady?"

She stopped then, eying him curiously. "Even when his lady arrives at his side by default? You didn't exactly ask for this, Gil."

He gave her a smile that seemed wistful, and squeezed her hand. "I should have. Anne, I haven't said a single thing that I didn't mean since this all began. I told you- I don't care how we arrived at this place. I think we've got a better foundation than most couples- and if I thought you wouldn't kill me for it, I'd have socked Gardner in the eye today."

She laughed, her perfect nose wrinkling adorably. "If I wanted that, I would have done it myself." Anne pulled her hand from Gilbert's then, only to tuck it into the crook of his arm, keeping in step with him easily. "I'd forgotten how much fun it was to go into battle together," she said suddenly, earning a smile from Gilbert. "We haven't been so terrible since our AVIS days."

Gilbert chuckled. "I've missed it." Again the air seemed full of statements that could not be made, until he grinned wickedly. "I can't wait to see his face when I meet you at class with a sonnet that I wrote myself."

Anne turned to him in comical horror. "Gilbert Blythe, you wouldn't!"

"Wouldn't I?"

There was only time to catch his grin, and he was off and running toward their home.